


xxiii; Blurry Ink

by Theo_Thaur



Series: 31 Days of TUA Whump [23]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adult Number Five | The Boy, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Angst, Gen, Number Five | The Boy-centric, One Shot, Pre-Canon, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Vanya Hargreeves-centric, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27276910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theo_Thaur/pseuds/Theo_Thaur
Summary: Whumptober 2020 submission. No 23. "WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE?": Exhaustion, Sleep Deprivation.-----Two people in their early thirties attempt to stay up just a little longer, searching for that one last breakthrough before they could be content to lay to rest.(Or, Vanya tries to perfect a piece in order to get first chair, and Five gets his hands on a book that might be his way out of the apocalypse.)
Series: 31 Days of TUA Whump [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951234
Kudos: 3
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	xxiii; Blurry Ink

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGERS: hunger, self-doubt, mentioned vomit, self-enforced exhaustion, perfectionism.

_xxiii; Blurry Ink_

Vanya sat in front of her music, eyes tracing the lines and lines of ink upon the page. It was easier to lose her focus in the dark of night, much in the same way you might find it hard to read the squished text of letters on a page, hours deep into a book. It didn't matter how much you liked that book, your eyes were tired all the same. But practice was different,  _ perfection _ was different. It was like reading the same pages, an excerpt or short story playing forever in your head. She loved music. She loved the bubbling feeling of excitement when new music was distributed through her orchestral group to learn, and eventually play in concert. She loved the small pieces of herself she put into what she did, the way she could coax out from paper, beautiful lines of song. She loved that it was something about herself she actually felt somewhat confident in. The melodies and harmonies sat deep with Vanya, like home. It was always important to her to know the little things, the way a composer might write their name in a key progression, or make more literal, unique notes in the original margins of music. She yearned to understand what could ever compel someone to create things so beautiful and moving.

Five had endeavored to look for answers. It wasn't a choice born out of curiosity or love, but a feeling of necessity that struck some chord and resonated, replacing grief and sticking with him for years. It was somewhat easy to find pamphlets and papers, or really anything other than the narrow margins of what Five wanted. But he'd finally come across something that seemed important enough to make a change: a large tome, an overview of Einstein's theory of general relativity and quantum field theory. Five had been good with math as a child, he'd probably had more of a natural inclination to it than most, but he'd never gotten to really explore it. They weren't tested on the subject, just expected to glaze over the pages of a math book and put that information secondary to what they learned during training. Reginald had given them the resources to learn math, not because he wanted them to have a better outlook on the world, but because he didn't want the Umbrella Academy to make a fool of itself accidentally because none of them could divide. Most of the concepts in the book were too advanced, it was an uphill battle to start at Einstein and attempt to learn backwards, but Five was willing to try and brute force it. He'd turned up empty handed after looking through surrounding wreckage for any more books. His best hope was trying to find a library in the city he was currently staying in, but the sheer mass of books atop books atop building material atop furniture and shelving… it would be a long, difficult process. Five had already hurt himself by climbing through unstable environments in search of food, he didn't want to dig through soggy books if there was any chance the answers were right in front of him.

Vanya rubbed at her eyes, before turning away from the music and looking off at the far wall. Her vision was a little blurry because her eyes weren't cooperating. It was common that looking at music too long could make anyone's mind wander, go into autopilot so to speak. But she didn't want to do that, she wanted to be acutely aware of using the right speed, making every note and instruction matter. Vanya wanted to make the composer proud, and her conductor proud. Whenever she stopped playing, the hum of the radiator to her right, took up most of the sound in the room. Sometimes she'd look over it for no reason, too tired to go on but too stubborn to put her instrument away. Occasionally, the honk of a car or something similar would jolt her back into full consciousness, and she'd pick up her violin and bow from where she'd inevitably laid them down on her lap.

He'd spent enough time in the apocalypse to start up a modest, collapsible house. Nothing much, it was a glorified pillow fort for a grown man to live in. Luckily Dolores was a classy woman with a fun side, and could see the practicality in the design. She allowed them to stay there and was happy with it. Dolores knew he was doing his best. Over dinner, he read by light of a candle, bundled up in blankets after tucking one around Dolores. He ate a granola bar and tried to pretend like it was filing. Five's younger self had a few special privileges he didn't, because most food hadn't had time to expire by that point. Pickings were slimmer, he wasn't scared to scrape mold off of things anymore but knew from experience it was sometimes better to be cautious. Eating bad food could make it so his body got rid of everything, leaving him more hungry than he'd been to start with. It was more difficult to focus on learning with a near empty stomach, but Five made it work as best he could, like it was a special treat to be distracted from his own gnawing hunger.

She wouldn't have pushed herself as much for no reason, but this had a reason, it was a pattern. Every time they held a try-out for chairs, Vanya struggled to think of anything but making her performance flawless, so that she could be first chair. She just wanted to finally excel and feel like she could outwardly claim to be a 'good violinist', because even the second best just felt ordinary. It was harder and harder the later she got into the night, to hold herself with perfect posture. Vanya found her elbow frequently trying to sink down, closer to her body, and had to fight the soreness in that limb. It slowly began to shift into misery, as she made mistakes she wouldn't normally make, not using the entire length of the bow as she played or pressing down too hard on the strings and making the violin squeak in protest. Vanya only grew frustrated at herself for making simple mistakes rather than learning, upset she kept herself awake just to make disgraceful noises. Shame burnt through her when frustration died down, she wondered if she was wasting her time playing violin, if it was still  _ worth  _ it to keep going after all that time. Was it just something she defined her identity with, after clinging to it during time in an abusive household? Why again, did she like it so much? Taking a break for medication calmed her.

Five tried to unpack what the book was explaining slowly. He wasn't even sure if it could help, he wasn't sure the meaning of the contents and had certain notions about getting his hope up. But phrases like 'four-dimensional fabric' and 'gravity bending time' had caught his eye when he'd come across the book. It wasn't like there was anything Five could really do with his time either, he felt like he deserved a break from walking and scavenging. It felt nice to relax and forget about everything except the text, to be worried about if he'd read something right, and turning back pages to re-read. It was simple. If he drew himself in just enough, he was a kid again, breaking through assigned historical readings or squinting at PEMDAS. All was well. The theories began to build in his head, deep into the night. Five knew that he should put the book down and go to sleep, but he couldn't do it. He was scared, put simply, of the responsibilities of the approaching day. He wanted to lay on the floor forever, talking only to explain something interesting to Dolores, as best he could --or to make amends to a concept he'd tried to tell her about previously in the night. It wasn't mature to run away from tomorrow, it wasn't right. But Five hadn't looked forward to a new thing in years, he wanted to hold the book to his chest and not let go. He wanted the luxury, for a few hours out of years, to not think about his next meal, to not think about what he should be doing to stay strong. Five just wanted to be a kid again, getting through pages and learning about things past what he needed to survive. Just doing that felt like a vacation.

But she couldn't stop, any time she thought about it, the idea of not doing well enough kept her up. Vanya couldn't sleep at night if she wanted to, what plagued her mind was having the chairs announced and failing, because she'd gone easy on herself and rested when she should've devoted herself entirely. Vanya didn't want to be  _ close _ , she wanted to succeed without caveat. It was all or nothing and she'd put it too much of herself to achieve nothing. She knew the feeling of shame and depression all too well, as a result of the orchestra. She knew what it was to let herself down, to feel her cheeks redden as she  _ didn't  _ take the first chair in front of the audience, as she  _ wasn't _ the most esteemed violinist. There were few worse feelings than hearing the soloist, Cho, play and concert after having gotten to learn that part by heart through hearing it at practice. Vanya was always torn between being jealous and feeling confident that she could play that part just as well, or thinking she'd never be good enough to be entrusted with that music. There was a reason that Vanya had a lamp attached to her music stand, it was to make sure she could read well into the dark. 

He hunched over the book, the candle burnt far down so that the dripping wax piled up at the sides like stubby spires. His back hurt from hunching over, which was one of the positions he alternated to when a limb fell asleep. His eyes hurt a little, being dragged down by some unseen force, feeling almost hollow in a way he could put no more words to than that. And yet he just couldn't give up that sense of comfort, as soon as he looked away from the pages he'd be surrounded by the apocalypse. There was a possibility some of this knowledge might some day help him fix whatever the problem was, though Five didn't know the problem yet. His motivations had drifted past necessity, and guilt came to him, for enjoying the contents of a book he had to read, because of his circumstances. It felt like something Five shouldn't take any sense of enjoyment from, in some alternative world he wouldn't be reading from a textbook at all because he didn't need to. It wasn't supposed to be about him or what he wanted, it was supposed to be about saving the family. Maybe if he kept himself awake by taking breaks to stare into the bright candlelight, he would suddenly hate the book and the fact that he had it read it, because it was his only lead. Perhaps Five could make it feel like a job so he wouldn't have to feel shame for his curiosity, or for the hope that finally piecing together  _ something  _ in his life brought him.


End file.
